Close to Home
by mcat
Summary: Things hit a bit close to home for Martin. Warning mild slash references


Close To Home

mcat – mcat40@hotmail.com

October 31, 2002

Author's Note - additional scene to the episode "Suspect."

__

FBI Office, NY, NY...

"Where the hell is Fitzgerald?"

"I haven't seen him since you two left the kid at the hospital," Danny replied. "He said he was gonna head home to clean up and then come back to finish up.""That was over three hours ago," Jack ground out. He stared at Danny and silently gave him his orders.

A few minutes later Danny entered his office again, leaning against the doorjamb. "I've tried his phone, cell and pager. He's not answering."

"Go find him. Tell him to get his ass back here," Jack replied, not looking up from his computer screen. "We've got a ton of paperwork to do before the arraignment."

-------

Danny parked out in front of the apartment building. Looking just ahead, about three cars forward, he picked out Martin's pick up truck and shook his head.

"What the hell is an FBI agent in New York City doing driving a fucking pick up truck? Must be that midwestern upbringing... Can't take the boy off the farm... Yeah, right, Danny. His Daddy's a bigwig upstairs, he didn't grow up on no farm."

Shaking his head again, Danny got out of his car and headed toward the front entrance of the building. Checking his address book, making sure he had the right apartment, he found his way up to the third floor and apartment 312. He was about to knock on the door when he noticed that it was ajar. He quickly moved to the side of the door and took his gun out of its holster. Peering cautiously into the apartment first, Danny slowly entered, sweeping his vision and gun across the entryway and the living room.

Everything looked normal to him; there was no sign of forced entry or struggle in the apartment. As he moved past the kitchen though, he heard something - the shower running. After doing a quick check of the two bedrooms, Danny went back to the bathroom. The door was closed, but not unlocked.

"Martin?" he called quietly, knocking just as quietly on the door. "Martin?" A little louder this time.

When he got no response, he opened the door and entered, gun first, but that didn't prepare him for what he found. Sitting on the floor of the tub, the water running cold as it sprayed over him, was Martin; alone, apparently unharmed and fully clothed.

After the initial shock wore off, Danny put his gun away and managed to call to him. "Martin? Come on, buddy," he continued, reaching in to turn off the water. "What's going on?" He sat on the edge of the tub and waved his hand in front of Martin's face, trying to elicit a response, but got none. When he put a hand on Martin's shoulder to give it a shake, though, he got one. Martin jerked away from him, breathing rapidly, his eyes now wide open and full of fear. "Martin, easy, it's just me, Danny!" He continued his reassurances, trying to soothe his panicked coworker, until Martin finally met his gaze and seemed to recognize him. "That's right," Danny soothed. "Just me. Calm down."

"Danny?" Martin rasped, the first word he'd spoken since Danny arrived. He looked around, confused, wondering why Danny was in his bathroom.

Sensing his confusion, Danny responded, "You were late coming back to work. Jack sent me looking for you. I found the door to your apartment open, so I came in to check on you and found you here."

Trying to make sense of Danny's words, Martin found that he couldn't. The last thing he remembered was being in the car with Jack and... "Oh, God," he whispered, suddenly feeling nauseous. He tried to climb out of the tub but found that he couldn't move.

Danny saw the look on his face and recognized what was wrong. "Come on," he urged, grabbing Martin by the arms and hauling him out of tub. He got him over to the toilet just in time for Martin to throw up into it. 

Danny looked away, wanting to give Martin a little privacy. _No, that's not it, Danny, you just can't stand the sight of someone puking,_ he corrected himself. He got up and grabbed a facecloth off the towel rack and wet it before handing it to Martin, who was now leaning against the wall. "You okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Martin answered, shivering.

"No you're not," Danny replied. "Come on," he said, putting out his hand, "you gotta get out of those wet clothes."

Martin grabbed Danny's hand and let himself be helped up. He started to head out of the bedroom when Danny stopped him. "You might want to leave the wet stuff in here," he suggested.

"Yeah," Martin replied, pulling at his tie.

Danny couldn't hold his questions any longer. "Martin? What's going on? What happened? You eat some bad takeout on the way home or something?" When Martin didn't answer him, but continued to fumble with his shirt buttons, Danny asked again. "Martin? What's the matter?"

Martin looked up then and met Danny's gaze. For the first time since they'd been working together, Danny looked serious, like he actually cared about him. After a minute's contemplation, he finally whispered, "Things hit a little too close to home."

Danny was confused at first, wondering what Martin meant, but then realization dawned on him. He just stood there, not knowing what to say, as Martin continued stripping off his wet clothes. It was as Martin finally walked past him, heading to his bedroom, that Danny was brought back to the present.

"Want to talk about it?" he offered, not sure if he really wanted to know the details.

"Not particularly," Martin replied. "I'm okay, now."

Danny watched from the doorway as Martin searched for clothes to wear. It was terribly obvious to him, though, that Martin was not as okay as he thought. His hands were shaking; he was not able to find what he was looking for, despite dumping the contents of three dresser drawers onto the floor. Danny knew that Martin was in no shape to go back to work. He stepped into the room and walked up behind Martin. He reached out a hand and put it on top of Martin's, stilling it from its frantic search for underwear.

"Forget about it, Martin," he said. "Just get into bed. You need to get warmed up and you need some rest."

"Jack's gonna kill me," Martin replied, trying to break Danny's hold on his wrist.

"You let me worry about Jack," Danny assured him, as he led Martin to the bed. He was surprised when Martin stopped fighting him. _Does Martin have that much confidence in me?_ he wondered. He finished putting the blankets over Martin, basically tucking him in, and brought out his cell phone. As Martin watched, he dialed Jack's number.

"Jack? It's me, Danny. Yeah, I found him. We're at his apartment. No, he can't. He's sick. He thinks he ate some bad takeout on the way home or something. He's been puking for the past two and a half hours. No. No. Look, he's got his laptop here, so why don't I get his narrative and email it to you? Would that work? Okay, probably within the hour. Thanks, Jack."

"Thanks, Danny," Martin managed.

"No problem. But hey, once we're done with your narrative, if you want, you know, to talk, I'm all ears."

"I'll think about it."

----------

Danny hit the send button on the email program. Earlier, while Martin had gotten warmed up under the covers, Danny had found him some clothes to wear and straightened out and closed his dresser drawers. Martin, feeling a bit uncomfortable in bed had suggested that they work on his narrative out in the living room. Danny grabbed a blanket and bundled him up and settled him on the couch. Then he got them both some warm tea from the kitchen before retrieving the laptop and getting to work. 

Martin's narrative turned out to be pretty cut and dried. He'd told Danny about he and Jack picking up Graham Spaulding and driving toward Manhattan. Then, when Spaulding said that he'd tell them where the boy was, they headed toward the park with the caves. It hadn't taken long for them to find the boy, Spaulding had been very anxious to see him again. The rescue team had been called as soon as they knew they were heading to the cave and they had met them there, so they really didn't have to do any rescues themselves, just make sure that the boy was indeed there and alive. The boy was too incoherent to give any sort of statement, so it was just a matter of Martin and Jack making sure the scene was secure for the evidence teams to do their jobs. They followed the ambulance to the hospital and Jack made sure that proper procedures for evidence gathering and statement taking, if the boy woke up, were in place. Jack stayed at the hospital and Martin headed home.

"Sounded pretty simple," Danny remarked. "Nothing too out of the ordinary," he added, watching Martin, who was sitting on the couch now, wrapped in a blanket.

"Yeah," Martin replied quietly.

"Except, of course, Spaulding suddenly telling you two where the boy was." Danny watched Martin's reaction – a sudden swallow and bowing of his head. "He didn't just come out and volunteer the information, did he?" he asked.

Martin looked away, not wanting to remember how Jack talked to Spaulding but hearing the low voice in his head anyway.

"Martin?" Danny called quietly, putting the laptop down on the table and moving to sit next to Martin. "What happened in the car?"

Knowing that Danny wasn't likely to give up too soon, Martin finally said, "Like I said, it hit a little too close to home."

"Somebody did that to you? Like Spaulding did to the boy?"

Martin stood up from the couch and walked across the room. Staring out the window, not wanting to face Danny, he began, "Not quite so bad. Back in college, my sophomore year… I was dating someone. Someone older, a grad student. I didn't know better. Just kinda went along with everything. Hell, I was away from home, away from my folks. Drinking age was still eighteen. But he sucked me into his game. I didn't know just how much power he had over me until it was too late."

"Wait a minute," Danny interrupted. "He??"

Martin turned around then and faced Danny. "Yeah. He," he said, waiting for more of a reaction from his coworker. But when Danny just nodded and motioned for him to go on with the story, he was taken aback. "You don't have a problem with that?" he asked.

"Should I?" Danny replied. 

"No, I guess not," Martin answered, inwardly surprised. There was more to his story, obviously, but he wasn't ready to tell it yet. Especially to someone he's only worked with for the past couple of weeks. _Hell, you can't even handle it yourself, even after fifteen years, Fitz_, he chided himself.

"So how did you finally get out?" Danny asked, bringing him back to the present again.

"He finished his degree, got a job and moved. Left me high and dry. I was never so happy."

"So what the hell happened in the car that brought this all back?" 

Martin took a deep breath and looked at Danny, hoping to gauge what his reaction would be to what he'd say. Finally, he said, "Jack."

"Jack?"

"He had his voice. His words," Martin whispered as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. His eyes took on a faraway look, remembering. "He was talking to Spaulding, saying stuff. I swear, if I didn't know better I would have thought that bastard from college was right next to me in the car." 

"He was going along with it, pretending he was one of them, wasn't he?" Danny asked moving across the room to sit in front of Martin.

Martin looked at him; saw Danny nodding his head. "I've heard him do it before. Creeped me out big time," Danny responded to Martin's unasked question. "I call it his _Hannibal_ voice."

"I know a cop that refuses to watch that movie now. She saw it right after spending a week at a sex crime seminar, and thought it was just a bit _too_ realistic," Martin remarked with a slight smile. 

The two men sat silently for a few minutes before Danny asked, "Feeling better?" 

"A little. Thanks," Martin said with a smile. "You better head back now, though, before Jack starts looking for you, too."

"My paperwork's done. I don't have to be back until morning, for the arraignment," Danny said. "I can, uh, stay, though… if you need me to."

Martin looked a little closer at his coworker. A man he got to know more in the past two hours than he had in the past two weeks. _Did he _want_ to stay here?_ he wondered.

"Don't _need_ you to. But…" _okay, Fitz, take a chance…_ "…but maybe I want you to…"

Danny smiled. "Good, 'cause I think maybe I want to stay, too."

-------

"Don't know about you, Martin, but I think the couch'll be a bit more comfortable," Danny suggested, rising to his feet and stretching his legs and arms. He extended his hand toward Martin.

"Fitz," he said, taking Danny's hand.

"Huh?"

"Fitz," he repeated. "My friends call me Fitz." When Danny gave him a quizzical look, he continued, "Always hated my name. Tried using my middle name, Vincent, or Vin, for a while, but it didn't catch on, I guess."

"Okay then, Fitz it is," Danny said as they sat together on the couch.

They talked for an hour or so, each giving their history with the Bureau, where they were from and so on. Danny noticed that Martin still seemed a bit shaken though, when he mentioned his college years. So when Martin couldn't hold in a yawn, Danny looked at his watch, seeing a way to change the subject. "It's getting late and we've got an early morning ahead of us," he said, not sure if Martin's earlier offer to stay still stood, now that the crisis seemed to have passed. But then he saw the fear in Martin's eyes again. "I can still stay, if you want me to," he offered.

"You still wanna stay?" Martin asked hesitantly.

"If the offer's still open."

"It is."

"Where you want me?"

__

Oh shit, Martin thought.

"We don't have to do anything, Fitz," Danny said, purposely using Martin's nickname to put him at ease. "But if you want me with you tonight, to feel safe, I'm okay with that."

Martin nodded his head. "I think I'd like that. Just… just to feel safe," he replied.

The two men turned out the lights in the living room and headed for the bedroom. Martin sat on the bed and set his alarm clock as he waited for Danny to join him. He tried not to watch as Danny stripped down to his tee shirt and boxers, but found that he couldn't help his curiosity. 

"I'm one up on you, Fitz," Danny remarked as he slid under the covers. "I've seen you naked," he said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, as Danny noted the smirk on Martin's face. 

"Thanks, Danny," Martin said. And before he could change his mind, he leaned over kissed him on the lips. 

He was about to turn to shut off the bedside lamp when Danny stopped him. His hand now around Martin's neck, Danny pulled him gently back and returned the kiss. "You're welcome," Danny replied.


End file.
